Kill and Tell
by EternalEquality
Summary: I was never the kind of girl who had posters of guys all over her wall. Nor was I the kind of girl who drank and slept around. I was pure, the "epitome of innocence." All he had to say was a few words and I went from the girl who had never had an experience to kiss and tell to a woman who had the option to kill and tell. The day I met Bolton changed my life completely.
1. Chapter 1: White

I was never the kind of girl who had posters of guys all over her wall. Nor was I the kind of girl who went against her parents, drank and slept around. I was pure, the "epitome of innocence." All he had to say was a few words and I went from the girl who had never had an experience to kiss and tell to a woman who had an option to kill and tell. The day I met Bolton changed my life.

Complete one-eighty.

Turned it upside down.

I went from class sweetheart and president to class rebel and everyone's worst nightmare.

A lady doesn't kiss and tell.

A woman doesn't kill and tell.

_Authors note: Hi, I love you. If anyone wants to beta read, please let me know. Okay, see you at the beginning of Chapter 2. __  
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_Disclaimer: Yes, I own HSM(!)_

**CHAPTER 1: WHITE**

I was thirteen years young, innocent, naive even, when I was first included in a study session which mainly consisted of talking about the three no-nos. Sex, drugs and rock 'n 'roll. I was a virgin, drugs were off the agenda, and my parents had raised me to listen to classical music, for rock 'n' roll was the music of devils, they'd say. I was sixteen when I got my first kiss from a boy, seventeen from a girl. It was after my kiss with the girl that I spent an entire day crying in church.

I was the complete opposite of my best friend, or who I considered to be my best friend. Sharpay Evans: charming Christian by day, slutty Mrs Claus by night. She once labelled me the "epitome of innocence," before trying to initiate a homosexual experience that'd "blow" my mind. She was my contact to the real world. I'd known her since birth, our mothers practically sisters, our fathers partners in "crime." By "crime" I mean, they once defaced the wall of their church by writing "I LOVE JESUS!"

There yet, there I sat in her too-big room, surrounded by the scraps of material she considered clothing.

"Gab, I need to wear something that'd not only mentally blow his mind, but something that'd lead me to blow... something else. Perhaps something red? Or black? Maybe white?"

I stared at the three outfits that she had brought out, all three were short dresses. Short, short, dresses, just in different colors.

"Um... White?"

She dropped the other two dresses and hung the white dress on the hook provided in her closet. Analyzing it carefully, she stripped of her clothing, leaving only a pair of lace red panties and a bra.

"Won't your underwear be too blatantly obvious under the dress? Are you going to change it or...?" I asked, leaving the question open for her.

Her analysis stopped and she turned to me before laughing a little too loud.

"Oh, Gabi! Gabi, Gabi, Gabi... Sweet innocent Gabriella." With each word she walked closer to where I sat at the edge of her bed. Soon she was stood right in front of me, "Babe, that'd the whole point. The red part he will be able to see will drive him insane. Whatever the hell is name is... Drake, Dom, Dustin...?"

I laughed quietly, she rarely knew the name of the guy she was supposedly dating, and she'd simply refer to him as "babe" all night.

"I worry for you sometimes," she said, turning away and slipping into the black dress, "I really do..." before grabbing my hand, pulling me up and assessing my outfit.

A black skirt that reached the bottom part of my knees and a grey t-shirt paled in comparison to Sharpay's outfit. Suddenly her eyes were filled with light, the grey lighting up like fireworks.

"Gabi! You should come tonight!"

Wait, what?

I stepped backwards and fell onto the bed, crawling backwards in an awkward position, "No. No, no. No. Noooo. No, no, no, no and NO."

"Yes. Or I'll tell your parents we kissed last New Year's."

"Shar! That isn't, under any circumstances, fair. You kissed me!"

Sharpay sighed and walked into her walk in closet, although her parents were religious, they gave her more freedom than I had. A lot more freedom. She was able to have boyfriends, go out to parties as long as it was legal, wear clothing my parents would completely disapprove of.

"And you spent the next day crying at church. So what? You're coming. Now let me find you something to wear..." her voice said from inside the closet.

I love to hate Sharpay Evans. And I hate to love her too.

Next thing I knew, a piece of clothing was thrown at my face, a dress. White in color and shockingly demure… for Sharpay. For me, it was too much, too clingy, too tight, too white, too slutty, too un-Gabriella Montez. I tried it on anyway.

It was a white body con dress that went to the same length as my skirt, the neckline formed in a v-cut, showcasing more cleavage than preferred and a hint of my plain electric blue bra. The leather jacket she threw at my face was a grey, biker-like one and matched the grey leather ankle boots she passed.

"Jesus, you have boobs!" Sharpay cried, her face illuminated by her phone.

I sighed quietly, "Don't use his name like that… and yeah, I suppose I do."

"They're amazing!"

"Shar…" I warned quietly, "Where are we going?"

"Oh," she started collecting two purses for us and heading to grab two very long coats, "White Horse, that new club downtown," Casually passing me one of each and walking down the stairs innocently.

I followed her, putting the coat on as we passed her father who smiled at us, tipping his teacup in our direction. Stepping into her car, I abruptly turned, glaring at the blonde who sat applying lip-gloss whilst primping her hair.

"White Horse? Downtown?" I whispered angrily, "Those are like… Satan's second homes or something…"

Sharpay scoffed and started the car, tossing me a lipstick and mascara stick while doing so, "You really need to chill Gabriella, it's one night. I'll never force you again, pushover."

It was less than half an hour later that we pulled up in an old parking lot, and less than ten minutes after that that we entered the club, somehow we got in… somehow.

The music was loud, it smelt of sweat and alcohol with a hint of popcorn, large TV screens showed videos of women moaning and touching themselves seductively, the air was thick and heavy. The whole atmosphere screamed sin.

I heard Sharpay giggle beside me.

"What?" I questioned.

"Nothing, you just look so scared. Calm down, have a drink, meet a guy… screw that, meet a bunch of guys, dance, maybe go home with someone and then tomorrow morning, repent or some other shit like that. Call me if you need me." And with that, Sharpay Evans was gone. I was left alone with a room full of people.

I walked forward, heading through the mesh of people grinding and moaning, in order to reach the bar. As ladylike as I could, I sat on one of the stools and suddenly I was surrounded by a different kind of heat as I felt I presence next to me.

A warm, seductive voice then said to the bartender, "She'll have a bottle of water, please."

_AN: Hi, you're beautiful. I love you, review?_


	2. Chapter 2: Purple

_Authors note: The reviews: Thank you all so much. Your reviews mean so much to me. I genuinely enjoy writing these characters. I hope you all love Troy as much as I do. He's a confusing character; I'll point that out from the beginning. That is all. See you in Chapter 3. I DON'T OWN "WAVES"_

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**CHAPTER 2: PURPLE**

His breath was warm by my ear, his voice radiating sex appeal in its most subtle form, he smelt of vanilla, a spicy kind. Although not completely within his embrace, I could feel he was strong. As ridiculous s it sounds, I found myself completely attracted to a man who had caged me in for a few seconds and whose face I had yet to see.

I could still hear, and feel, him breathing. Deep, hot breaths. Then, he spoke again.

"Hey."

It was so simple. I swallowed the ball of nerves I had collected in my throat, "Hi."

Suddenly, I was not within his embrace and he had taken a seat on the stool next to me.

I felt stripped of my breath. The man was simply magnificent. I simply couldn't put his beauty into words. Like an airbrushed GQ model, but completely natural. He had flawless skin, with a, what could only be described as sexy, slight stubble on his chin. And his eyes. I gasped slightly as our eyes met, overwhelmed by the strength and power in them. The colour was so vibrant and blue that the sea would have paled in comparison. His jaw was strong and muscular, defined to the point where DiVince himself could've sculpted it. It felt wrong to stare at him like he was a painting on the wall, but my desires kept me looking. I could've stared for ever but a bottle of water slid across the counter, lightly tapping my arm.

Grabbing the bottle to open it, he kept his eyes on me, before handing me my opened bottle, "Here, I'm Bolton."

I took a sip, a very small sip and the put the bottle down. He looked at me expectantly, clearly wanting my name, I wasn't sure if I should tell him. He's a stranger after all.

"Gabriella." I said quickly, probably too quickly.

He looked amused. And he looked good amused.

"Gabriella…" He tested it out, and then tested it out a few more times, "Gab-ri-el-la. Gabriella. Cute."

I blushed against my will. He looked older than me, probably in his early or mid twenties. I mumbled a thanks and watched as he sipped a beer I didn't even realized he had before looking down at my lap suddenly disgusted as I realized how short my dress was, how much of my body was exposed, how much he could see, how much everyone could see.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement and there was no mistaking it. I didn't want to dance with him. I was Christian, not ignorant to the world. I knew that dancing didn't mean the waltz or innocent ballet. I complied, nonetheless. Sharpay was right, I was a pushover. His eyes tempted me in every shape and form.

Nonetheless I stood taking the hand he offered and watched as walked backwards slowly, leading me to centre of the dance floor.

Reaching the middle, I paused at took a moment to take in his image. His hair was of up, in an attractively messy style, the gray tshirt he wore under his unbuttoned leather jacket clung to what looked like an impressive physique and I could see the outline of his pectorals. Gasping inwardly, I diverted my eyes back to his, only to see him staring at my intently.

The purple strobe lights danced beautifully around the room. Flashes of purple people, purple drinks, purple clothing. But all I saw was one pair of blue eyes. Bolton's blue eyes.

His hands lightly grabbed my hips lightly and gently pulled me towards him, leaving an inch of space between us, before beginning to move to music slowly as a new song began.

_I'm slowly drifting, drifting away,  
Wave after wave, wave after wave  
I'm slowly drifting, drifting away,  
and it feels like I'm drowning,_

I felt as his head moved lower, towards the side of my head,

"Relax, Beautiful," he whispered, carelessly moving a strand of hair behind my ear.

I cleared my throat, "I'm sorry, it's just that I don't usually dance with people I don't kn-"

He cut me off before I could finish my sentence he began one of his own, "My name is Bolton, my favorite colour is green because I like plants and I like dancing with pretty girls. Know me well enough, yet?"

"Sorry," I mumbled

He laughed, "Don't be, Beautiful."

We continued dancing, his head burying itself in my hair and his hands gripping tighter onto my waist swaying my body from left to right, pulling me a little closer each time. As the song finished, he let go and took a step back. He smirked.

"Come with me," he beckoned, turning around and walking into the crowd. I obeyed and followed quickly looking around at the purple faces but still following the man with the blue eyes.

He led me to what looked like the back of the club and I watched as he walked over to one of the small circle tables and sat down, look at me expectantly. I walked over to him and stood awkwardly.

"You can sit, you know?" He said, his voice monotone.

I noticed him patting the empty seat beside him slowly and walked over, taking a seat, very much aware that my entire leg was on show and that he could see nearly everything. _Nearly._

Suddenly Bolton's eyes looked behind me and he started laughing. Honestly, I don't think it could be considered laughing, more chuckling, darkly, deviously, satanically. Then he stopped… and sighed.

"You're so innocent," I hear a female voice from behind me say, "So, so innocent."

Another smirk appeared on Bolton's face, a sly one. He raised his eyebrows in greeting to the woman and be motioned her forwards.

Another face appeared by his beautiful one. An evil one. One with pale skin, purple lips and dry hair. Her outfit was practically nonexistent; her breasts were barely contained, her bones protruding.

"You must be Gabriella," she said, offering out a hand.

I was reluctant to shake it for two reasons. Firstly, she scared me. Her cheeks were sunken, bags so heavy under her eyes that not even her makeup could conceal it and her eyes screamed hell. Secondly, it confused me slightly that she knew my name.

She must've realized for she chuckled and retracted her hand, "Your friend Sharpay told me you were reserved, she also said you were a pushover. This explains why Bolton bagged a dance with you."

I felt as my eyebrows raised themselves.

She continued, "I'm Herring."

"Hi…" I said, confused as to why Sharpay would reveal my identity, lost in my own thoughts, I didn't paid no mind to Herring whispering things into Bolton's ear until he abruptly stood, grabbed my hand and yanked me towards the back door.

The air was cool, the sky a dark color, perhaps purple. I held my gray jacket together with my hands, shivering slightly; careless of the long, warm coat I'd left back in the club. It hadn't yet struck me that I was wandering around with a strange man, the thought had crossed my mind, but I could've cared much less.

"You're still here?" I suddenly heard the husky voice beside me ask.

I nodded a small nod.

"Why?" he asked, as he stopped walking and turned his body towards me.

"Sorry, I'm just gonna go…" I began, turning a full one-eighty.

"No, stay. Please."

And for some reason, I did.

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AN: Oh "hi" Beautiful Person who has successfully reached the end of this chapter. Please review, even if it is to tell me how awful I am. Love you. xxx


	3. Chapter 3: Green

_Authors note: Hi, thank you all for your reviews! They push me to update faster and to see readers so eager to see what happens next really encourages me to type faster! Just as a caution, I'd like to say, I mean no offence to any religious or non religious person. All of this is purely for fictional purpose. If I got any of my religious facts wrong, please do PM me. Love you. SHOUTOUT TO Ceciliaa93 BECAUSE HER LATE REVIEW ON THE 10TH REALLY MOTIVATED ME TO GET OFF MY ASS AND WRITE THIS! _

_9 REVIEWS TO THE NEXT CHAPTER?_

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**CHAPTER 3: GREEN**

I wasn't sure if the feelings I had for this man were considered sinful or not. Were they even proper feelings? Or was I just trailing behind him like a puppy for no apparent reason? It seemed evident to me at first that if there were any feelings present, they were not lust. For lust was forbidden. Jesus gave a strong warning against the physically and emotionally powerful feeling.

I felt attraction for him but how I wish I didn't. As we casually strolled through the luscious and quiet green park I felt silently ashamed of myself as I walked beside him, shamelessly looking at him every few seconds.

"You okay?" I heard him say quietly, as if he were my therapist asking how my day went.

I didn't respond at first, enjoying the feeling of his eyes on me, sinfully trailing across my body.

"I'm fine."

Bolton chuckled a sound so deep and rich that I gulped in surprise. "Lies," he began, "No woman is this silent, walking around at near midnight with a stranger and is "fine" with it, Gabriella."

I smiled softly, "You wouldn't understand."

He smiled back and took one of my hands into his; leading me to a nearby bench under a green tree that looked almost black in the non-existent light , "Try me."

It was such a welcoming phrase. I wanted to tell him what I was feeling but he had this "bad boy" aura surrounding him. As if he'd mock me, or not relate to my situation. He didn't look like he went to Bible classes, or go church every Sunday or have a nightly prayer that he'd make. He probably didn't say grace before his meal, or have intense intellectual conversations with his mom about Virgin Mary. He more likely wasn't a virgin himself!

"I'm a Christian." I stated simply and watched analytically as he slowly nodded his head before shaking it just as slowly.

"And…?" He questioned, taking both of my hands.

I retracted. "And this is sin. Bolton, I go to Church on Sunday. I love the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. I've kissed a guy once in my life and it felt so wrong. I love it when people say grace before they eat because it makes me happy. The Virgin Mary is my female role model and I make a point to never swear."

"Wow." He said, a grin on his face, "That, beautiful, is very admirable."

I took a deep breath and looked into his beautiful eyes, the bright blue contrasting against the various shades of green in the park, whispering thanks.

"Fuck." I heard him say, him still grinning and my eyes narrowing.

"Excuse me?" I gasp.

"Fuck." He said again, and all I wanted to do was slap the smug grin off his face.

"What are you…?" I didn't finish my sentence before standing up to leave, but that didn't stop him from gripping my waist and pulling me down onto his lap. His dirty lips moving towards my ear again and whispering for third time, "Fuck."

And damn, I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it.

"Say it," I heard him whisper again, his hands gripping at my waist tighter, but still affectionate.

I shook my head, "No."

"Fuck."

"No."

"Fuck."

"Bolton. Seriously, no." I said, attempting to move his hands from my waist, but there was no denying I loved the feel of his hands there. I felt safe.

"Troy."

It baffled me that he had just said one word other than that which was a swear word. I turned around slightly to look at him, his eyes boring into mine. I whispered a simple "huh" and watched as a small smirk appeared on his lips.

"Troy." He said as his grip on me began loosening up and his legs starting to move up and down, jiggling me in his lap a little, "Troy Bolton. It's my actual name. Bolton just has more of a vibe to it, though."

"Troy." I repeated slowly and watched as he nodded. His entire body stilled and almost instantaneously both of our bodies relaxed and I found myself leaning ever so slightly into his muscular body, "Troy."

We sat silently for a few minutes; taking in our surroundings, in front of us was another bench, this one decorated in emerald vines and jade moss. It looked beautiful and romantic, like something out of a fairytale. A story in which the princess sees the prince talking to another eligible bachelorette and turns green with envy, the prince sees her and later leads her to a mossy bench, proclaiming his love for her.

"You're a good girl, huh?" I heard him ask, "Never done anything naughty, ever?"

I pondered on that question for a second, "I stole a pen from a clerk's desk once," I responded, watching carefully as he bit his lip in a very cute yet very sensual way, before a huge beam appeared.

"You stole, and I use that term very lightly, a pen, of all things, from a clerk's desk, of all places?"

"Yes, and then I went to Church the next day to repent."

We were silent again, until his pestering began, "So, if you swear, just once, could you not just go to Church tomorrow and repent or…?" He left the questioning statement open for me to finish.

"…Or not. It doesn't work that way." I said, mumbling "Not that you'd know" under my breath. But it seems he heard as he repeated, loudly, after me.

"Not that I'd know…"

It wasn't my intention to come across as rude, then again, I never intended to go to a vibrantly, and surprisingly, green park in the middle of the night. I didn't mean to challenge him, but much to my shock, he took it as one of a kind.

"Then teach me a little." A paused moment passed as I looked at him as if he were a crazy homeless man betting a million dollars that he didn't have, "You teach me a little about being good, and sweet and Jesus-loving and I'll teach you a bit about my lifestyle, which isn't bad in general but comparison to you, I might as well be living in hell already!"

Just as I was about to respond, in neither a positive nor a negative way, my phone buzzed, a welcomed reminder that I had a home to go to, and parents who thought I was innocent.

"I-I-I have to go." I muttered standing from his lap, and this time he let me, as if he understood my situation.

"Hold on," he said, almost desperately, as he retrieved a pen from his back pocket and grabbed hold of my arm, firmly but gently at the same time. I watched silently as he neatly wrote a series of digits on my forearm, "Stay in touch, Gabriella. Don't be a stranger," he finished.

I nodded, "Bye Troy," and turned around to walk away.

Once out of the park I stared down at my arm where his cell phone number was written in bold green ink.

I was in so much trouble with myself.

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_AN: I KNOW! I'm awful at updating. I'm so sorry. But I love you, my dear reviewers and you guys seriously motivate me! Please review?_


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